


the holes they leave

by MiniNephthys



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Spoilers, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5944717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniNephthys/pseuds/MiniNephthys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mettaton investigates the lab.  His agents are just there to be an audience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the holes they leave

**Author's Note:**

> King Mettaton ending.

Mettaton doesn’t look for Alphys as much as he used to, but he still keeps an eye out for her.

He’s too busy ruling the underground to search it top to bottom like he first did when he became king. A dedicated search like that takes time and energy, and there are other demands on him that take precedence over looking for a monster who’s probably already…

In Mettaton’s heart, he still has hope that she’s alright somewhere. But denial is a weakness of his.

Now and then he passes by the garbage dump, or her laboratory, and takes a glance inside just to be certain. He doesn’t think there’s anywhere he hasn’t looked, except-

Today he enters the lab and stops right in front of the bathroom sign and its associated door.

“It would be incredibly rude of you,” he says, “to hide somewhere I can’t politely enter.”

Nobody answers.

“Buuut,” he goes on, “since this is for your own safety, I suppose I can put aside my incredibly good manners for one moment. I’m breaking the door down in three seconds.”

Nobody answers in those three seconds or makes any move to emerge, so Mettaton kicks down the door.

Now, Mettaton has never required use of a bathroom. Ghosts don’t need to use them, and robots even less so. However, he’s seen enough bathrooms on television to know what they look like, and to know that they normally look nothing like elevators. This is definitely an elevator.

He almost takes a step forward, stops, and thinks it over for a few seconds.

Then he dials up his agents.

It takes Sans and Papyrus very little time to arrive - Papyrus is expressing his joy that Mettaton actually asked him for something, while Sans looks perfectly composed. They peer inside the doorway.

“That is most certainly not a bathroom,” Papyrus says. “Whoever labeled it as one should be given a stern talking-to about false advertising.”

“You’re planning on going down?” Sans asks. Mettaton nods. “What do you need us for?”

“I have a bad feeling about it,” Mettaton replies, staring at the opposite wall like it will reveal its secrets through force of will. “Of course I can handle whatever might be down there on my own, but it would be a shame if there were no one to see my exploits.”

“Gotcha,” says Sans, with a smile that gives no hint as to whether he believes Mettaton at all. When Mettaton steps inside, he and Papyrus follow.

Mettaton presses the button, and the elevator descends normally down the shaft… for about two seconds. Then it starts shaking and picking up speed as warnings blare over the speakers about losing power and whatever an em tether might be.

Mettaton only realizes when the elevator has finally stopped (with a loud crash) that he’s grabbed hold of Papyrus’ arm. He lets go at once, and Papyrus gives him a smile probably intended to be reassuring.

“There were no guard rails,” he says, huffing to himself as the door opens. Leaving the elevator and that conversation, he takes a look around.

It’s dark. Not too dark to see, but certainly much darker than the lab above. Everything is cast in a dim bluish tint, and it’s faintly dusty. There are cracks in the walls.

“Looks like nobody’s been down here for a while,” says Sans, behind him, still sounding perfectly calm.

“Are we going to be able to get back up?” Papyrus asks, pressing the elevator button. It’s not responding.

“Sure,” says Sans. “I know a shortcut.”

Mettaton turns his head back at them to roll his eyes, then examines one of the data pads on the wall. It lights up as he approaches it.

“‘Entry number 1,’” he reads out loud. “‘This is it… Time to do what the King has asked me to do.’” He cuts off there, staring at the letters in silence for a moment. “...These have to be Alphys’ notes...”

He’s quiet and still for another few seconds, prompting Papyrus to ask, “Do you need moral support?”

Mettaton snaps out of it. “Not at all, sweetbones. I was just wondering why she would ever work in a gloomy place like this.”

He goes on, reading the last of Alphys’ words that he’ll ever read. It’s fine. It’s just some rambling about science and souls and determination. Nothing important to him.

The power room is locked, and so is the door to the right. After Sans buys some chips, they go left, past some sticky operating tables, and find some sinks.

“Does the water still work here?” Papyrus asks, turning each faucet on. The first and second dispense water, although Mettaton wouldn’t be quick to drink it even if he wasn’t a robot.

From the third, something white comes out. Papyrus jumps backwards as three amorphous blobs emerge from the faucet, and Mettaton steps in front of them without thinking twice.

The… creatures… are unstable, always slightly shifting in shape like they can barely keep themselves together. They have something that looks like a tail, and vague resemblances to eyes - four of them, or more. Their voices are a cacophonous din that Mettaton can’t make any words out of.

As Papyrus and Sans duck and weave out of the way of their attacks, Mettaton fires a blast of his own. He doesn’t know what these things are, but they’re clearly not monsters, and if they’re going to attack first then they should be prepared to receive retaliation-

But it didn’t work. Absorbed nope FAILURE

He recoils. A burst of magic gets his foot, and as he’s picking himself back up again, he notices Sans fiddling with his phone.

“Should still be on here…” he mutters, dodging out of the way of another attack. “Here we go.”

Clear voices are audible through the phone. “Come join the fun,” they say, not quite in unison.

“I would rather not,” says Mettaton, readying another attack. Before he can fire, the whatever-they-ares fade away into nothing.

There’s a key in the sink. Quivering a little, Papyrus picks it up. “Well,” he says. “That was. Certainly something.”

A silence passes over the three of them.

“We could go back,” Sans starts. “Any time.”

“We’ll keep looking,” says Mettaton. “We aren’t finished until I say we’re finished, understand?”

They keep looking. They find more keys, and from the data panels on the wall begin to get an idea of what these things are that keep attacking them. Monsters who’d fallen down, given the will to live again and fused into some ungodly mass due to Alphys’ experiments.

No wonder she considered - considers herself a failure. Mettaton understands her behavior so much better now that he knows where it came from.

One panel mentions him, how she’d been afraid to finish his body, thinking he wouldn’t need her anymore when it was finally complete. Being attacked by another amalgamate is almost a welcome distraction after reading that - anything rather than consider whether he would have abandoned her if the circumstances were different.

As they’re walking back to the power room, Papyrus grips Mettaton’s arm, and Mettaton turns to look at him. “Need something, darling?”

“Oh, no. It just…” Papyrus hesitates. “...looked like you were in pain.”

“I’m fine,” Mettaton replies. “If anything, I’m just tired of walking around so much. I’ll be glad when we’ve cleared this place out and can get some fresh air again.”

Papyrus is much easier to read than Sans: he obviously doesn’t believe him.

They unlock the door. There’s one piece of paper on the floor, in front of the power supply. Mettaton recognizes Alphys’ handwriting before he even picks it up, and as the skeletons start to fiddle with the equipment, he begins to read.

_If you’re reading this, I’m dead._

He stares at those words blankly for a few moments, before going on.

_There aren’t many people left who would care whether I died or not. Undyne and Asgore are both gone, and Mettaton hasn’t really cared about me for a long time, so I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe that’s why I’m leaving it here, where I hope no one will ever see it._

_If you’re reading this, you’ve already seen the worst of me. You know why I can’t take it anymore. When I hated myself, there were still some people who saw good in me, somehow… even if that was just a lie. But those people are dust now. There’s no point in me going on._

_Please don’t tell people about this. Please don’t tell Mettaton about this, especially - I might not have always been great to him, but I really did want him to be happy._

_I’m sorry for everything.  
-Alphys_

“Power’s back up,” Sans announces. “Won’t be needing a shortcut after all.”

“Are you going to be alright?” Papyrus asks.

“...No,” Mettaton says. “I won’t.”

It’s the first time he’s ever regretted that the body he was made can’t shed tears.


End file.
